Roger Federer only put a number on what we already know – he is the best in the world

On a Friday night in Rotterdam, the atmosphere was betraying the occasion. Millions of fervent eyes around the world were fixed on this port city in the South of Holland. Yet, the epicentre of attention itself – the Ahoy Rotterdam Arena – was oddly calm when Roger Federer and Robin Haase came out to play tennis.

Perhaps because the occasion, or at least its outcome, had already existed in the heads of those in attendance and of those watching on their television sets. The number would only confirm what everyone already knew: Federer is the best male tennis player on the planet.

And it did.

The coronation was complete following three sets of swift tennis. Federer returned to top of ATP rankings – he also calls it home – after over five years (the ATP rankings will officially reflect the same on Monday). Has it been that long? For the man who spent an entire generation’s adolescence on top of the world, being back there, being ‘World Number One’, shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But as the Swiss exulted in his achievement, raising his arms in relief and then burying his head in his hands in realisation, one could see that it mattered to him.

World No 1 at the age of 36; the oldest alpha. It somehow feels like the culmination of his renaissance that began over a year ago. Two Grand Slams in 2017, followed by another in Melbourne earlier this year that rounded off his slam count neatly, and now the No 1 ranking.

The Year of the Gratuitous Federer Phantasm has been an outer-space adventure where nothing ever goes wrong. It has been so perfectly in line with the stars that one could almost forget the years that preceded it: the years when Federer kept faltering.

Stuck at 17, stuck between the fantastic and the frustrating, Federer had his time of stop-start promise. Often he would come close, but never close enough. You would see sparks of majestic tennis from the man, and he’d say things like he was feeling pretty good, playing good tennis, but that spark never turned into a flame and it always felt that the things he said were just auto pep talk.

Riding the wave

Then, one fine day, he started believing what he was saying. It’s natural of us to compartmentalise Federer’s phases, to separate his initial rise, all-conquering reign, inevitable slump and irresistible return from one another. But his career is a singular beast.

A commentator at this year’s Australian Open men’s final made an excellent point when Marin Cilic battled his way back into the match: Federer knows well the ebb and flow of a tennis match, he knows when he gets going and he accepts when the other guy stars hitting the spot. He rides out the wave.

It’s hard not to think that this applies to his career as well. Last night was the wave hitting another peak. Federer wasn’t even playing his best tennis, far from his ruthless self. But there was a collective prescience about it all. Of course, he would win. Of course, he would return to world No 1.

You could not doubt it unless you had been living under a rock for year. His comeback has been so fierce, his tennis so devastating that he now walks into a match with everyone expecting him to win it. Not too long ago, he had been written off.

This change, though hard to believe, is easy to see. There are a few obvious factors. Switching to Ivan Ljubicic toward the end of 2015 set in motion the events that unfold today. Federer’s game has certainly become more offensive and also more tactical under his present coach. You can see that he’s more decisive and predatory while playing crucial points.

Another obvious change that has helped is that he now chooses his battles. The tennis circuit is gruelling, more so for a 36-year-old. You can’t win them all; heck, you can’t play them all. His style of play too is probably his biggest ally. He glides like a gazelle on court, as if conserving and gathering kinetic energy and then imparting it to his shots. It’s like he sucks the air around him, avoiding all the exertion and friction.

Desire to win

Though it takes effort to make it look effortless, but the way he plays has prolonged his career. But his return to the top owes more to something that already existed within him than something he had to change: that singular drive to play and win, the obsession of an athlete. Everybody wants to succeed, but only few even among greatest have a near-delusional disposition to win.

You can see it across sports: Athletes defying age and logic, disbelieving and disregarding their own decline and carrying on for that one more win. The World Cup, or the Champions League, or an Olympic gold, or a Grand Slam, or a championship ring.

It is Cristiano Ronaldo, completely overhauling his game to stay relevant, taking fitness to unseen territory, winning it all and still turning up to win more. It is LeBron James fighting his own destiny, completely invested in his own myth. It is Tom Brady, Venus Williams, Gigi Buffon who refuse to let their time pass. It is Lionel Messi believing in his clockwork nature and striking always on time.

One time, when the Argentinean was injured and low on confidence and Ronaldo was pulling away from him, his teammate Xavi motivated him to get back to it by asking him if he wanted to see Ronaldo win the Ballon d’Or again. Messi did not. Greatness is an addiction. And it is very rare.

Even the best of the best sometimes don’t have that addiction, that unquenchable desire for the next hit. They hit the peak, but trail off toward the end. That was the story of Ronaldinho. What if he had the discipline and desire of Messi or Ronaldo? And it might not show on his face, but Federer has that desire too. He has always had it. That is why it mattered to him last night.

“It is the ultimate achievement,” he said after winning. To be the best, not just in common parlance, but mathematically. It is what drives them. Nothing measures sports quite like a number. It means nothing to us, really. For us it is just an algorithm. We can chose to accept it or ignore it. We can disregard someone being ‘World Number One’ because we like someone else’s forehand more. But for them, the number is truth. Last night, Federer reconciled with his truth, that he is the best in the world.